


An Apple Tree Grows in Brooklyn

by msbluesunflower



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-war flashbacks, Retirement, honestly this is all fluff, really it's post Avengers 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbluesunflower/pseuds/msbluesunflower
Summary: “Is it really gonna live?”“Oh, Stevie, don’t underestimate it.” Bucky only beamed at him, then kept digging with his shovel. “You gotta have faith in life.”





	An Apple Tree Grows in Brooklyn

In the spring of 1934, the gentleman who lived next door to the Barnes family passed away.

His son had a business out West, his daughter was working to become an actress in Hollywood, and his wife had passed a long time ago. For years, the man lived alone in this three-story brownstone, and spent his days tending to the flowers and fruit trees in his backyard. At the beginning of summer every year, he’d send over a few baskets of lemons and peaches for Mrs. Barnes to make into fruit pies. As he got older and his movement more restricted, however, he could no longer pick the fruits himself, which was when Bucky and Steve started volunteering to help.

Well, Bucky did most of the ladder-climbing and actual picking. Steve stayed on the ground and put the fruits into baskets.

“I bought an apple sapling yesterday. Would you boys mind planting it for me some time this weekend?”

The day before he died, he had asked them.

After the funeral, a “for sale” sign appeared outside his door. And when Bucky took out the trash on Wednesday morning, he found a sad-looking sapling on the ground next to the trash cans. But when he picked it up, he noticed that while most of the leaves had either fallen off or withered up because of the cold, there were still a few young, delicate green buds on the bottom branch. The way they stubbornly clung onto the branch reminded Bucky of someone.

“Ma!” Mrs. Barnes had been in the kitchen, making breakfast for him and Mr. Barnes. “I’m planting an apple tree in the garden.”

 

 

“This feels wrong.”

Steve can’t help smiling as he watches Bucky regard the familiar yet foreign place in total wonder. He nods in agreement, trying to conceal the nervousness bubbling in his chest for what he plans to do today. “It’s true. We used to only come here on Easter Sundays.”

In the spring of 2019, after over seventy years, Bucky Barnes is back in Brooklyn.

A few months ago, the universe finally woke up from what felt like an endless nightmare, and Steve finally got Bucky back from the dead. (Again, and hopefully it’s permanent this time, because God help him.). They bid goodbye to Wakanda, came back to New York, and moved into the Avengers complex.

This now healed, peaceful city is a glorious sight in the spring morning sun. They’re sitting in a hole-in-the-wall diner in Brooklyn Heights that’s almost as old as them. The borough is full of young people these days, they’re told, and it’s a hub for new restaurants and all types of food. But this diner has stood at this street corner since they were seven and eight years old, and somehow, even after witnessing all that this city has been through, it hasn’t changed all that much.

Steve stares, wide-eyed, at the almost too comprehensive menu in front of him — Okay, this place has changed quite a bit. He didn’t know it was possible to have this many types of pancakes.

“At least you don’t have to only order grilled cheese now.”

“Hey! I liked their grilled cheese.”

“C’mon, pal.” Bucky rolls his eyes affectionally, “You only did it because it was the cheapest thing on the menu, because you felt bad that my folks were buying. Couldn’t fool me.”

“So you always ordered extra bacon and eggs, and pretended you couldn’t finish them so you could give them to me. Couldn’t fool me, either.”

Bucky doesn’t deny it. He calls over the waitress to order for them, and flashes a gorgeous smile at the blond-haired, blue-eyed girl after she pours them some coffee. It left Steve a little dazed — Having cut his hair the day after they got back to New York, he looks much like his older self now, the young man who had captured the hearts of half of the girls in Brooklyn. The waitress blushes before walking away, and it reminded Steve of the way the redhead, Dolores, looked when Bucky handed her the stuffed bear he won her.

“I bet her number will be on our check.” He couldn’t help grumbling as he opened a packet of sugar for his coffee.

“God, Steve. Anyone with eyes can see that my date is right in front of me.” Bucky shakes his head bemusedly, “Although he hasn’t told me where he’s taking me for the rest of the day.”

Steve’s hand trembles at the thought of his plans and almost drops the sugar packet straight into the coffee. The key in his jacket pocket suddenly feels too heavy. He swallows hard.

“It’s a surprise.”

 

It’s pretty rare for Bucky Barnes to not be able to figure out what Steve Rogers is plotting.

They walk a few blocks after leaving the restaurant, with Steve leading the way. Although his memories have long recovered, the area has changed too much for him to recognize anything beyond some street names and church buildings. He’s about to ask Steve again for where they’re going when they stop at a crossing.

“Buck, can you close your eyes for a while? Only if you’re okay with it, of course.” Steve finds his hand and entwines their fingers. “I won’t let you fall.”

Sure, not seeing his surroundings might be a little unsettling, but there are very few people in the streets at this hour and he’s simply too curious to say no.

“Of course.”

He closes his eyes and lets Steve guide him, and soon notices that Steve’s palm is starting to sweat. After another six blocks and two right turns, Steve stops and moves behind him, his hands warm on his shoulders.

“Open your eyes, Buck.” He mutters into his ear, barely containing the excitement in his voice.

He’s standing on the steps of a familiar brownstone house. The exterior has been renovated, and the windows have been replaced, but he recognizes it nonetheless.

569 Leaman Place. This is where he grew up.

“…Steve?”

He turns back, puzzled, and can’t seem to process it when Steve fishes out a key from his jacket pocket and hands it to him, the look on his face hopeful.

“Wanna look inside?”

 

 

“It looks pretty dead to me.” After school that day Steve followed him home. He was still recovering from his cold, and would have a coughing fit every once in a while. He’s wrapped up in a blanket Mrs. Barnes had given him, sitting on the steps of the garden looking warily at the withered sapling on his lap. “Is it really gonna live?”

He coughed again before he could say more.

“Oh, Stevie, don’t underestimate it.” Bucky only beamed at him, then kept digging with his shovel. “You gotta have faith in life.”

 

 

As he watches Bucky turning the key and pushing the door open, still looking dazed and slightly perplexed, Steve thinks he’s probably never been this on-edge his entire life.

He hears Bucky gasp.

“You better have an explanation for this, Rogers.”

“We couldn’t keep a lot of the old stuff. There was lead paint, which was apparently really terrible. Both Tony and Loki wanted to help renovating, but they had very different ideas and almost tore the place down, then Thor fried all the electrical wiring when he tried to break apart their fight, so we had to ask Strange to — anyway, do you like it?”

“You…wait, hold on — ” Bucky rubs his temple. “Steve, you bought this place?”

“Well, we couldn’t just live in the complex forever.”

“So you bought my childhood home.”

His gaze can’t help following Bucky as he touches a hand to the ornate staircase railings. Bucky glances at the living room wall, where Steve’s oil paintings hang alongside photos of the Avengers. There’s a hook on the wall for his shield, and a cabinet for Bucky’s rifles. Opposite the comfortable-looking couch is the complicated entertainment system Tony installed. Then Bucky looks up at the ceiling that Loki had put some spells on, which currently displays a bright blue sky.

“This is a brownstone, Steve. I thought housing prices here these days — ”

“Army pension, salary from SHIELD, and what they gave us after — It was enough. That’s not important.” He puts an arm around his lover who is clearly still in disbelief, “You should see the garden.”

When he pushes open the door leading to the garden, he couldn’t help grinning as Bucky’s gaze widen.

“That’s not possible.”

“Remember what you told me?” Steve leans over and presses a kiss into his hair.

“Gotta have faith in life.”

 

After the universe lost half of all life in an instant, after Steve failed to protect Bucky once again, and as the remaining Avengers were getting close to giving up, he had come back to Brooklyn.

New York, with half of is people gone, was still steeped in pain and sorrow and looked grim and lifeless at the end of fall. He was only taking a walk along the Hudson trying to clear his head, but somehow ended up at the place he used to be so familiar with.

There was a “for sale” sign outside 569 Leaman Place. Without thinking much, Steve walked up the stone steps and rang the doorbell.

“Sorry to disturb you, but are you selling this house?”

“Oh my God, you are…” The dark-haired woman who opened the door looked to be in her thirties. The heavy bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t slept for days, like most people in the world these days. She gapes a little when she realizes who Steve is, but soon recovers her composure. “I’m sorry. Yeah, yes. Would you like to take a look inside?”

Steve nodded.

The interior was not at all like how he remembered it, but the basic structure hadn’t changed. The owner of the place seemed pretty well-off, judging from the refined style of design, the high-end furniture and electronics, as well as the well-equipped kitchen. Then he noticed the stroller in the corner of the living room that had clearly been sitting there and collecting dust, and the framed family portrait on the coffee table.

“My husband and my son both…” The woman’s voice trembled. “I don’t really need a house this big by myself.”

The crushing guilt and powerlessness he’d been trying to suppress for months came flooding back and overwhelmed him. Once again, he heard the cries of mourning and the rumbling of thunder that coursed through Wakanda that night, and saw in front of him yellow sky, clouded in dust he could not grasp, among which was the person he swore he would never let go again.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“I’m sorry we failed you.”

“Now, you and I both know that’s not true, Captain Rogers.” Steve didn’t expect the lady to shake her head and look up at him with a smile, albeit a broken one. “When I found out what really happened I realized, there probably isn’t a single soul who didn’t lose a loved one that day. You guys tried your best, and I’m guessing you are still trying. We’re lucky to have you.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, though, why are you interested in buying the place?”

“Someone I lost — ” It was the first time he’d called him that. “This used to be his family home. I want to give it back to him…a home, if he comes back. It’s probably just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking is all we can rely on now.” The woman paused, quickly wiping away a tear that escaped, and walked up to the door leading to the backyard. “Have a look at the garden, Captain.”

And nothing could’ve prepared Steve for what he saw — a tall, thriving apple tree, ripe apples heavy on its boughs.

“This tree is really awesome.” The woman beamed at him. “We were gonna cut it down because it was taking up too much space, but our neighbor said it must be at least eighty years old, and my husband and son both love apple pie, so…”

“Eighty-four.” He felt as if he couldn’t breathe, on the verge of an asthma attack.

“I’m sorry?”

“This tree. It’s eighty-four, almost eighty-five years old.” He ran up to it, reaching out a hand to touch the trunk. The rough, time-tried bark are covered in ridges and bumps that cut into his palm, and it was by far the realest thing he’d felt in the last few months.

“Bucky and I planted it. Spring of 1934.”

“Oh my God, how did I forget — ” Suddenly remembering something important, the lady covered her mouth in surprise, then ran back into the living room and started digging through the cabinets. “Just one moment.”

Soon enough, she reappeared in front of Steve, holding out a rust-covered cookie jar.

He recognized it almost immediately.

“We found it when we were installing a sprinkler. It looked ancient, and we were curious so we cleaned it up and opened it. It was actually sealed really well that there wasn’t too much water inside. CNN happened to be talking about the Win — about Sergeant Barnes, and my husband looked at the photo and said the boys on it looked like you and him. We didn’t open the letters, but we also didn’t know where to send them. It’s been a while that I had forgotten.”

Steve’s hands were visibly trembling when he took the cookie jar from her.

“I hope he comes back.”

“And your husband and son, and everyone else. We won’t give up.”

 

 

“So when are we digging this thing back up?” After they buried what Bucky called a “time capsule” near the newly-budding apple tree, Steve asked him.

“Hm…I don’t know. Maybe when we’re a hundred years old?”

“Bucky.” He laughed, “We can’t possibly live to a hundred years old. Especially me. I mean, have you seen me?”

“Hey, who knows what can happen in the future? Anything’s possible.”

 

 

> _March 10, 1934_
> 
> _Future Steve,_
> 
> _Hello from the past! I don’t know what year it would be when you open this, but I hope the future is a good one. I hope everyone has got enough to eat, and there’s no more poverty or bullies. Are you healthier and stronger now? Do you still get asthma attacks at two in the morning? Are you still that stubborn little punk you used to be?_
> 
> _But however good or bad the future is, I’m sure that I would always be by your side._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Bucky_

 

“Liar.” Steve spent that night staring at the empty side of his bed.

 

If someone had told Bucky back in 1934 that he had accidentally foretold the future, he would not have believed them.

He picks up the cookie jar, heavily marked with time, from the small table standing under the apple tree, and opens it with utmost care.

“My God.” He picks up a photograph of them and holds it with two non-metal fingers. “Look at us.”

“I read your letter, you know, when I thought you weren’t coming back.” Steve touches a hand to Bucky’s cheek. “The good news is, I am healthier. Bad news is, I’m still that stubborn punk. You should read mine.”

He takes out the piece of paper inside the envelope. It’s become yellow with time. Ink faded.

 

> _March 10, 1934_
> 
> _Future Bucky,_
> 
> _I’m not convinced that this letter is really going to make it to the future, but it’s your seventeenth birthday, so I can’t say no._
> 
> _But really, I’m not so curious about the future, only that I hope you’re happy, and maybe got yourself a flying car. If I’m no longer around, I hope you’ve got someone._
> 
> _I loved you first. I love you best. No amount of time could ever change this fact._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Steve_

 

“The bad news is, I still don’t own a flying car. The good news is, we are a hundred years old, and you’re still around.”

Bucky grins and tilts his head, kissing Steve on the corner of his lips. The taller man looks like he’s about to tear up.

As he’s about to put the letter back, Bucky opens the envelope and only then notices the platinum band sitting at the bottom.

“Stay by my side like you said, always, will you?”

Bucky swears he could hear Steve’s thundering heartbeat. He laughs, bright and bubbly and probably too loud, and picks up the ring to put it on. It glints warmly in the morning sun, along with the rest of his vibranium arm. Under the now luxuriant apple tree, he puts his answer into a kiss.

 

 

“Welcome home, Buck.”

“Home is wherever you are, idiot.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. 569 Leaman Place is Steve's place in Brooklyn Heights in the comics. He lived in an apartment complex but I borrowed the address.  
> 2\. Apple trees can apparently live for around 100 years, but that's hard to come by, and having a 80 year old apple tree in a garden in Brooklyn seems pretty improbable, but just indulge me for a bit.  
> 3\. I realized that if there was any time that Steve would be able to afford a house in Brooklyn it'd be after the IW events, when half of the population is gone and the market is bound to plummet. Didn't have to be this technical but here we are.  
> 4\. MCU Bucky's family seemed really well off so I figured they would've lived somewhere nice.  
> 


End file.
